Just a Taste (Private Relations 1)

Deacon said, again, “Really good feeling about this.”

Sara laughed and asked, “Will that be all?”

Deacon’s eyes darkened again and he advanced a step, saying, “No. I’d like—”

The door to the conference room opened and the staff from Cynertex came back in, one of them saying, “Ooh. Is that lunch?”

Removing the lids, Sara said, “Enjoy.”

She watched the group pile food onto their plates and move back toward the table. After a moment, one of the men at the table said, “Excuse me, ma’am. Are you from Texas?”

Shaking her head, she said, “No, I’m not.”

Gesturing to the food, he asked, “The barbecue sauce is spot on. What did you put in it?”

Smiling, she said, “Molasses. I’m so glad you like it.”

Addressing the entire room now, she said, “Enjoy your meal!” and then she slipped out of the conference room and headed back to the elevator.

Deacon texted her about two o’clock and told her that the meeting had broken up for the day, so she went back to up collect the remnants of the meal. Stacking it on the cart, she made her way back to the freight elevator and down to the kitchen to finish cleaning up.

By 3:30 p.m. she was cleaned up and ready to leave. She was more than a little disappointed that she hadn’t seen Deacon again. Texting him, she said she was leaving for the day.

Immediately he responded back saying, In a meeting now. Was hoping to see you before you left. Will call you later?

Feeling an absurd sense of relief, Sara responded. Sure. I welcome any distraction. A little prep tonight, but mostly catching up on paperwork :(

Putting her phone in her pocket, she checked through the kitchen one more time to make sure it was in good order, then left through the loading dock, and headed back to the shop to work on payroll, invoicing, and prep for tomorrow’s engagement party.

Chapter 10

When the folks from Cynertex had issued the invitation to happy hour, he felt obligated to accept. By the time 7:00 p.m. rolled around, he was regretting his decision to go. One of the women, a tall brunette named Melody, kept touching his arm and pressing her breasts against him.

The whole group was drunk. They had been drinking steadily since 5:00 p.m. and didn’t seem to be slowing down. He was just glad that they’d settled in at the bar inside their hotel. It would’ve been a total pain in the ass to arrange car service for ten people.

When she slid him her room key, he was done. It was getting uncomfortable, honestly. He didn’t want to be rude, but he wasn’t interested. She was loud, clingy and unattractively drunk. And she wasn’t Sara.

If he had been drinking, he supposed that would be a sobering thought. Finishing the last of the club soda he’d been nursing all night, he finally made his excuses, citing an early day tomorrow. It ended up taking another fifteen minutes of handshaking to fully extract himself from the group, and specifically Melody.

Finally, after one last good-bye, he made it out of the bar and into his vehicle. He felt the beginnings of a tension headache creeping up the back of his neck. He just wanted some food and a shower.

The traffic was surprisingly light so he was able to make it home in about fifteen minutes. Pulling into the sub-garage, he took the elevator up to his floor, already beginning to feel the tension ease in his neck. After a hot shower, and a grilled cheese sandwich, he stretched out of the couch and called Sara.

She picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, gorgeous. How are you?”

Laughing, Sara said, “I was just up to my forearms in ham mousse. I assure there’s nothing gorgeous about that. I’m good, though. Wrapped up paperwork, and now I’m finishing the prep work for a job tomorrow.”

Curling his lip in disgust, he said, “Ham mousse? That sounds…disgusting.”

Laughing again, Sara agreed.

“You’re right. It’s totally vile, but not everyone has a discerning palate like you.”

Snorting as he thought about the grilled cheese he had just eaten, Deacon said, “Yeah. That’s me. Discerning.”